A Solid Stop

I got up from the felt mat and stretched my boots on the oak floorboards. Over by the corner leg of the record shelf, a heavy wooden domino tile with carved white dots was lying face down on the grain. I walked over, knelt down, and tested its heft with both hands. It was dense and smooth, cut from aged maple. Using my pine peg, I levered the tile upright against the bottom baseboard seam. It stood dead square, propping open a narrow gap between the cabinet edge and the wall where morning light crept through. I gave the edge a slow, firm tap with the heel of my boot. Solid as an anchor, and it won't budge an inch.